Ichor Cell-Interlude 3 - Elementary, my dear captain

Ichor Cell-Interlude 3 - Elementary, my dear captain

As the night sky slowly brightened to dawn and morning sun had yet to rise, a giant of a man dressed in exquisite armour strode through the front gate of the Guard’s south barracks.
Towering over normal men at a height just south of seven feet, he was a wall of pure muscle and steel. His boots struck stone with calm authority, but his mind was far from still.
Captain Adamantios nodded to the guardsmen saluting at the door without slowing, already stripping his gloves off. Inside, the air still held the chill of night. The scent of oil and old parchment clung to the corridors as he made his way to his office—three doors down, second on the right.
He found his vice-captain already waiting inside.
Kost Levin lounged in one of the chairs, boots up on the edge of the table, twirling a dagger between his fingers with casual ease. Wiry where Adamantios was thick, his second in command had the lean, roguish look of a man who’d never fought fair in his life—and had never intended to. His half-buttoned uniform and permanent smirk were tolerated only because he got results.
“You’re early.” Adamantios grunted.
Kost grinned. “You’re late. I made tea. It’s terrible.”
Adamantios didn’t respond. He closed the door with a quiet
click
, removing his cloak and draping it over the stand before giving the other man a nod.
Kost tossed the dagger into the table with a
thunk
and sat upright, stretching lazily.
“So. Which do you want first? Our friends from the Tower, or the noble lunatics?”
“I’m going to deduct that out of your pay.” The captain said instead as he took a seat, glancing at the three inches of steel now buried in the expensive mahogany desk.
“Shit!” The vice-captain’s face blanched as he lunged forward to rip the blade out of the wood, as if removing it would somehow fix the hole it had left behind. He sent his superior a pleading look, tears brimming in his eyes. “Captain…”
“Piss off.” The other man waved him away without even sparing him a glance, already going through the small pile of s that had built up last night. “You were saying something about nobles. Is it those Miganos bastards again? Do we have any news about the damage that appeared on one of their buildings overnight?”
Wiping away the distraught expression on his face, Kost nodded, all levity vanishing. “Still no reply from them. I think it’s safe to say that they experienced some sort of attack and that the intruder managed to get away. Their men are still crawling over the slums, though their numbers had been reducing over the past couple of days.”
“They suddenly tripled their street presence last night, sending out over half their forces in two batches, however the majority of their troops pulled back before the sun even came up. Our men discovered the site of what appears to have been a battle—well, more of a one-sided massacre, really—between one of those batches and some unknown assailant. Almost a dozen corpses, all identified as the group the nobles sent out, killed by what appears to be a single opponent; one possessing quite a terrifying amount of strength.”
“Why are you so sure it’s only one?” Adamantios asked. “And what makes you say they are strong—besides the fact that they managed to take out a whole group like that?”
“Oh, well that’s because several of the injuries on the corpses were left either by a rampaging bull, or a body mage of significant strength. It did not look too dissimilar from the battlefields you yourself leave behind.” The other man replied. “One of the bodies in particular looked like it caught a catapult to the chest, except vaguely foot shaped. And yet that’s not even the most interesting part. While we did find a bunch of bodies, there was a very noticeable lack of something else.”
The man stopped the , staring at his captain expectantly.
“Fine…” Adamantios decided to humour him. “What was missing?”
“Blood!” The vice-captain exclaimed. “There was extraordinarily little blood left at the scene, at least much less than there should have been. It’s like it just vanished.”
“Hm…” The captain let the words settle as he leaned back, his office chair groaning out its protests. “And what about the other batch the nobles sent?”
“They raided a general produce store near Old Market Street. Dragged out the shopkeeper—old man named Grenil, sixty-three, widower, no priors—and took him alive. No announcement, no charge, nothing.” Kost’s tone darkened.
“Not only that, but they’re apparently planning to execute the man. My sources tell me they plan on making it a whole thing, instead of just doing it quietly. They’re clearly hoping to accomplish something, maybe draw a response out of someone?” The rogue opined, once again leaning back into his seat.
“Considering the timing and location of both of these events, I’d take a gander that this Grenil is in some way related to whoever decimated that other group of theirs. This public execution is their attempt at baiting the mystery attacker out, which they would have to be colossally stupid to fall for.”
Adamantios clenched his teeth, his temper flaring at the blatant disregard for any rules, laws or regulations shown by the arrogant nobles, and by extent their disregard for him.
“I don’t care about their fights with some random blood collecting body mage.” The large man snarled. “Abducting one of the citizens under
my
care, without warning, and threatening to publicly kill him just to get to one of their enemies is not going to fly. Not in my city. Hell, it could be a literal blood sucking demon straight out of hell for all I care. That would still not justify capturing, much less executing an innocent man. They think they’re untouchable just because they have a few connections with the Acropolis? Well, I’m about to go touch them all over and prove they’re not the only ones.”
Kost choked at his captain’s declaration, quickly getting out of his seat to get in the man’s way as he got up to leave the room. “Wait, wait, wait!” He waved his hands around.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Scowling down at the smaller man, Adamantios bared his teeth at him. “Are you trying to stop me? Need I remind you that the last ten times we’ve sparred, you’ve managed to injure me exactly once, and even that was after the spar had ended.”
“Just relax, you dumb oaf; I’m not trying to pick a fight.” The rogue didn’t back down, his hands still raised placatingly. “Before you go tearing through the streets of the city to crack open some noble bastards’ skulls—an activity I would be more than happy to join you in—I still have to remind you that there are several other s you need to go through, and one in particular I think may shed more light on the current situation. Please?”
The larger man glowered at his subordinate for a few more seconds before turning around to collapse back into his chair with a sigh, the wooden members holding it up letting out more screams of protest at their treatment. “Fine.”
Kost sighed in relief. “And I will not stand for such slander from you. I won that fight fair and square, it’s not my fault you got a sudden cramp in the middle of combat. You think an enemy is going to care you didn’t sleep right before they try to kill you?”
The captain shook his head. “Have I ever told you that I would have fired you long ago if you weren’t so gods damned competent?”
“Many, many times, captain.” The rogue grinned as he too regained his seat. “Now get on with your s and stop dilly dallying. The one I was talking about should be last in the stack.”
With an annoyed grunt, Adamantios sat back up, pulling the next from the pile and running his eyes through its contents. Kost also finally stopped talking and sat still.
The s were blessedly brief, thanks to Adamantios’ efforts when he was first promoted to his position. He’d never understood his predecessor’s obsession with unnecessarily long and convoluted correspondence, often reading through two pages of text to extract three lines of information. His new, brief standard was much better, though the contents of the itself were just as underwhelming as ever.
“Fist altercation on Mantle Street. Two injured, no fatalities. Cause: dispute over dice game. One suspect fled before officers arrived, the other was fined.” He read out to his audience, scrawling a quick approval for the minor fine issued to the man left behind, and shoved it aside.
The next was considerably better—or worse, depending on how you look at it. “Missing livestock—eight chickens and one goat. filed by a farmer from the western quarter. No witnesses.” Adamantios raised an eyebrow. “Again?”
“Third time this week,” Kost said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Either someone is really desperate for chicken, or we have a potential monster on our hands. Well, there’s nothing preventing it from just being a wolf, but I like to think positi- sorry, negative.”
“I’m sure you’re really hoping it’s just a wolf and nothing else.” The captain rolled his eyes, signing off on a patrol increase in the area before grabbing the next sheet.
The third was longer, and back to being painfully bland. It detailed a public complaint lodged against a local street performer who had allegedly used mild illusion magic to “frighten a noblewoman’s horse.” No injuries, but the woman’s entourage had filed for damages. Adamantios flipped the page over, skimmed the back, and scrawled a firm “Dismissed – no law violated” in thick ink.
By the time he reached the final one, he was barely paying attention—until a clearing of Kost’s throat brought him back to the present.
“Compensation Request – Line-of-Duty Death (Wall Patrol)”-
Adamantios frowned faintly, eyes scanning the page with habitual precision, pausing on a name. “Theon...” He muttered, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “This is the follow-up for that kid who fell off the wall a little while ago. Standard compensation for his family.”
Nodding across from him, Kost merely waved his hand in the air. “Keep reading.”
Adamantios cast him a sidelong glance but humoured him, flicking his eyes back to the page. He quickly skimmed it aloud: “Guard Theon, age twenty-five. Died during night patrol, North Wall. Widow and two children. Full reimbursement approved. No appeals.”
Nothing else jumped out—no suspicious wording, no buried notes, no red flags. Just another bureaucratic box ticked, yet a quick glance at the rogue showed that he was missing something, something relatively obvious.
“Looks routine.” He continued looking. “The seal is clean. No formal protest from the family. Widow even sent back the signed receipt of funds.” His tone was flat and unimpressed as he set the down and stared the other man in the face. “I fail to see how this is relevant.”
“You remember where that Theon kid was stationed that night?” The vice captain asked instead of clarifying.
Adamantios gave him a look. “Of course I do. Third tower, north wall.”
Kost nodded. “Now remind me—what else happened that night?”
There was a beat.
Then Adamantios’s brow furrowed.
“…That Miganos villa got hit.”
“Mhm.” Kost leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of the desk. “That jogged something loose. I went back and checked the timing. The villa was attacked, and that same night, less than a kilometer away, Theon’s body was found at the base of the wall.”
Adamantios leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes narrowing. “You think they’re connected?”
“I think it’s possible.” Kost’s voice dropped lower. “Especially when you factor in what else was found at the scene of the event, as well as last night’s events.”
“Oh?” The captain raised an eyebrow, once again not seeing the connection. “How so?”
The rogue rolled his eyes. “Right, let me walk you through it then. So, a noble villa gets attacked, and that same night, a guard patrolling the wall nearby dies, right?”
“Yes…” The large man frowned.
“Great.” The vice-captain nodded. “Now, what somehow isn’t mentioned in that is that we also discovered a severed arm at the scene. It was pretty badly burned, which seems like damage that could be done with magic, correct?”
Adamantios crossed his arms. “Continue.”
“I’m getting there.” Kost readjusted his seat, glancing down at it. “You should really get more comfortable chairs. This thing cannot be good for my back.”
“I said continue.” Ground out the reply.
“Right.” Kost cleared his throat, turning serious once again. “Well, this is my theory: someone or something attacked the Miganos villa that night, where they lose an arm and get driven off. Having fled north, the attacker encounters a patrolling guard and has to silence him to stay undiscovered, dropping their severed arm in the struggle.”
“Now that we’ve established that the attacker fled north, what do you think the nobles’ goal was last night, considering where they sent their troops?”
The captain’s brows jumped into up as he sent his subordinate an impressed look. “So you think that someone or something attacked one of the Miganos villas, escaped north into the slums—killing a guard they encountered on the way and leaving behind a limb—where they grouped up with or met this shopkeeper.”
“They were then discovered by the Miganos, and several were squads sent after them, one of which kidnapped the shopkeeper. Then, when the other squad’s attack failed, they retreated from the slums and took the old man with them, hoping to use him as bait to lure this mystery assailant over. Did I get all that right?” The man finished.
“Right in one go, captain!” Kost offered a crooked grin. “You want me to prep a raid team, just in case?”
Adamantios didn’t answer right away. He picked up the final again and looked at it one more time—not because he needed to, but because the silence helped him think.
Then he set it down, slower this time.
“If they’re going to bait the hook this openly,” He said, voice low, “It’d be rude not to see what they’re hoping to catch.”
Kost raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips. “So you’re going to the execution?”
Adamantios mirrored the man, his face morphing that malevolent grin of his, the one that appeared whenever a fight was looming on the horizon.
“Have someone clear my evening.” He said, the runes throughout his body pulsing once—a violent, red light seeping through the gaps in his armour.
“They’ve arranged something so... dramatic,” Adamantios smiled. “It would be a shame if I didn’t accept their invitation.”

Interlude 3 - Elementary, my dear captain